The Tribulations of Love
by MacadamiaNut
Summary: Legolas and Faranthir are from opposing sides of a divided Mirkwood and fall in love. Unfortunately they are both engaged and there is little hope of Mirkwood becoming one again. What will they do? LOC. No slash!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters thought of by the brilliant mind of JRR Tolkien. I do not claim to own them, their rights, their royalties or any part of them. They are the property of their respective owners. Any characters which I do own, e.g. Faranthir I have invented, and anyone wishing to use them or any direct part of my story (though I don't know why they would!) must ask me first. Thank you!  
  
A/N: I hope you enjoy this and I will try to update it once a week. I know how annoying it is when people don't update them, so I'll do my best! Thanks for reading! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Mirkwood had been separated into two parts, the North and the South, for many years after royal disagreements. The two parts were not divided equally and because of this the South were annoyed as they had received the smaller section. The border was only a few miles above the East Bight, leaving the North with the main trade route along the Old Forest Road.  
  
A war had been fought between the two sides, which did not help Mirkwood's situation. Things were still rather fragile and neither side respected or trusted each other anymore.  
  
The King of the North was Thranduil, who although he did not trust the South, did not begrudge them, and wanted to regain at least an understanding if nothing more. He knew that this was nearly impossible because of the Southern King, Harathnor's stubbornness.  
  
Harathnor was incredibly stubborn; once his mind was made up it was almost never changed. His only child, Faranthir, particularly suffered from his unfavourable decisions. He would never allow her a second opinion on a matter. His word was always final. This was the unfortunate way that Faranthir had been promised to her suitor, Tethril. She had known him a few years, but not very well. He was a young advisor for her father, whom he had become fond of. Tethril's attentions had often been towards Faranthir although she did not notice them. She had never felt any need for another elf to look after her and was angry when her father revealed to her that she was to be married to him next summer, almost a year away. She had begged her father to let her choose, in time, who she should marry, but he had decided and that was his final word.  
  
Although Faranthir hardly knew him, she thought Tethril was respectable, charming and considerate, but when she was forced to spend time alone with him, found him abusive and cruel. After two months of their engagement she was expected to share his bedroom in the palace, but not lose her virginity to him until after the marriage. Almost every night he would hit her. She feared to sleep next to him as he would often pretend to be tolerant of her and then lash out. Her father would never have believed her if she had ever told him because he treated Tethril as a son. Harathnor had always wanted a son but Faranthir's mother had died during childbirth and he had never wanted anyone to replace her. So, Faranthir suffered in silence, awaiting her fate of a loveless and hopeless marriage to Tethril on the 21st of September that year... 


	2. Encounter

Chapter 1  
  
It was a warm Winter's afternoon, the sun having disappeared over the treetops of Mirkwood only an hour before. They were experiencing strange whether for that time of year. Instead of being bitterly cold it had been a mild January so far. Faranthir knew that she shouldn't be in the North - it was out of bounds to all from the Southern part of Mirkwood - but she enjoyed the thrill. If her father found out...well, she couldn't even imagine what he'd do!  
  
Her horse, Larendil, was a grey mare that had only seen six summers. She had been a gift from King Theoden of Rohan a few years before he had died, as thanks for the Elf's help in healing the King's own horse. Princess Faranthiril Whitefeather of Southern Mirkwood (but just usually know as Faranthir) was very good with animals, as all elves generally are, but had a particular speciality in healing.  
  
She had ridden from the northern part of the Gladden Fields – where she had camped overnight – into the forest a few miles until she met the Old Forest Road, which she was now travelling west along. It was well known to all in Southern Mirkwood that the Old Forest Road was often used by the Northern folk, but Faranthir thought that if any came, she could easily slip away into the darkness of the forest.  
  
They were trotting quietly at a slow pace along the road, so as not to disturb any passing Northerners or creatures with ill intentions. Faranthir used her keen eyesight to see into the darkness for a place to rest for the night. She dismounted as she saw a small clearing near a tall oak tree. Larendil's ears picked up and pointed straight ahead listening intently to an almost silent breaking of twigs and rustling. Faranthir heard it too and automatically drew out her bow and arrow, padding round quietly searching the woodland with her emerald eyes for an enemy. She stopped in the direction she had last heard the noise from, when a clear and powerful voice of a woman spoke behind her.  
  
"Why is an Elf of Southern Mirkwood wondering the Northern parts after sunset?" the voice questioned in an annoyed tone. Faranthir flipped around with great speed to find two Elves, one male and one female - who was slightly further forward - dressed in Northern fashion. The She-Elf wielded a curved and beautifully inscribed sword almost touching Faranthir's neck, the other with his bow and arrow ready to launch at any second.  
  
"Lower your weapon," she commanded. Faranthir dropped it but quickly pulled her sword from her back and pushed away the Elf's blade away from her neck. The Elf quickly reacted and struck Faranthir's forcing them to be locked in a battle for control above their heads.  
  
"Medethran!" the other Elf shouted, "Let me deal with her!"  
  
"No, Legolas," she said slyly, "She's mine!"  
  
Faranthir and Medethran engaged in a long swordfight. Medethran was obviously very skilled and Faranthir found her a tough opponent but each time Medethran found a new way to outsmart her, Faranthir would always find a way to beat it and visa versa. The two of them fought bitterly just like the real battle between North and South. After nearly ten minutes of combat, both were becoming tired but Faranthir would not surrender. As they swirled around Medethran accidentally swiped Legolas' upper arm, neatly slicing through his green tunic and cutting him. He dropped his bow instantly from the pain and grabbed his arm. For that one moment she lost her concentration giving Faranthir the opportunity to lunge at her again causing Medethran to lose her balance and fall back against the oak tree onto the ground, which Faranthir quickly took advantage of knocking the sword out of Medethran's hand and digging her own into her neck without breaking the skin. Both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, breathing heavily while recovering from the fight – Faranthir angry and Medethran afraid of the stern look on her opponent's face.  
  
"Do you surrender?" Faranthir asked. Legolas studied the two of them closely. There was his future wife cowering and defeated, sat beneath an old tree that almost seemed just as menacing as this Elf from the South. His gaze travelled to this proud and powerful figure that towered victorious above the frightened creature on the ground. He admired her – her courage for taking on such a tough opponent and winning, her skill with a sword, nearly the best he had ever seen and her beauty was amazing. A perfectly set jaw and high cheekbones, full red lips, a small and straight nose and lastly her eyes: they were the strangest colour of green he had ever seen. They were not dark, but not light. Blue tints here and there added to the fact that they looked like jewels. Her slender figure and long ebony hair added to her overall grace. He had never seen another Elf similar to her.  
  
"Yes," Medethran muttered reluctantly. Faranthir looked at Legolas to await a reaction. He said nothing and his expression gave no more clues as to what he was thinking. Faranthir switched her gaze back to Medethran.  
  
"Very well then. You will let me leave here freely and tell no-one I was here," she said simply.  
  
"We cannot do that," replied Legolas calmly and without warning he grabbed her waist with his undamaged arm and pulled a knife out quicker than lightning and placed it before her throat. Medethran quickly realised what was happening and grabbed Faranthir's arms. She struggled but Legolas held the knife closer and Medethran only gripped tighter.  
  
"No, you're not going anywhere," said Medethran with a smirk on her face as she pulled out some rope from her pocket and bound Faranthir's hands behind her back. 


	3. Sanctuary

Chapter 2  
  
Faranthir was now sat with her back to a thin beech tree, her hands tied, more tightly than necessary, around the back of it. Her captors had set up camp in a larger clearing a short distance from the one she had found. This spot was obviously used often, as there were remnants of recent fires. It had become colder as it became later and a sharp wind had picked up. Legolas was leant against a tree opposite Faranthir. Medethran was keeping warm by the small fire.  
  
Faranthir shifted uncomfortably, making Legolas' eyes fall upon her again. She could feel his eyes upon her and found them looking directly at her face. Their eyes met and she could see the striking blue topaz colour of his eyes. She quickly looked away as Medethran approached him.  
  
"I'm going to sleep now," she said quietly. Legolas nodded, "Are you going to watch her?" she added. He nodded again. She bent down and kissed him lightly on the lips.  
  
"Goodnight," he whispered. She smiled and walked back over towards the fire and lay down falling asleep almost instantly.  
  
Legolas winced as he touched the cut on his arm. It was more than just a scratch; the blade had scored across it, going in quite deep. It was very painful and he had nothing to cover it with. Faranthir could see this and as a healer, wanted to help.  
  
"That looks bad," she said, wondering if she was right to speak to him.  
  
"Yes, it is," he replied.  
  
With a slight hesitation she continued.  
  
"Let me help you."  
  
"What? And let you loose? Do not mistake me for a fool!"  
  
"Just trust me. I will not try to escape. You need a bandage of some sort."  
  
Legolas sat and looked long and hard at her trying to work out her motives. Eventually he decided that she would not try to run because it was too dark and she didn't know where she was.  
  
"Alright, but don't try anything." He moved over and untied her bonds. She brought her hands forward and rubbed her wrists; there were red marks on them. Legolas sat back against the tree. She knelt up to get a better view. Faranthir realised that he would need to remove his silk shirt and started to blush. He realised why she had turned scarlet and smiled, then obliged, but it caught on his arm and started to bleed again. Faranthir carefully helped him remove his sleeve exposing his well-built torso, obviously that of a warrior. She knew he would be watching her and quickly averted her gaze but he had already seen the look on her face and smiled.  
  
"Do you have any water? I need to rinse the wound," asked Faranthir.  
  
"Yes, here." He handed her a small curved water carrier. She took out a piece of cloth from her pocket, which she carried around in case of any injuries, and poured some water onto it. She patted it gently against the cut and he groaned slightly from the pain. In Legolas' eyes she looked even more beautiful close up and Medethran was no competition. He realised that he was beginning to find her very attractive but he knew she was a Southerner. He had not yet interrogated her on who she was and why she was in Northern Mirkwood, but he decided that he would not ask the question outright.  
  
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. You are the Prince." She replied. He nodded in response, "And what do you know of me?"  
  
"You are the eldest of your three brothers, you are slightly older than me, by the look of you, you are a strong warrior, and..." she paused and then continued, "You had a lot of 'relationships' with other women," she said trying not to offend. He raised an eyebrow at the fact that this was even known by the royal family of the South, but didn't say anything.  
  
"Perhaps that is true. And may I ask who you are?"  
  
"I am the Princess."  
  
"Princess Faranthiril, yes?" he questioned.  
  
"Faranthir," she replied bluntly, "And what do you know of me?"  
  
"You are the only child of your father. Indeed, you are younger than me, you are perhaps one of the most skilled Elves I have ever seen wield a sword, and..." his voice turned to concern, "You have never been in love."  
  
"That is true." She looked up at him wondering how he had known. After cleaning the wound she brought out a small bag of dried leaves.  
  
"This will sting," she warned him as she placed three along the cut. It did sting!  
  
"Hold this down," she ordered, but not sharply. He did as she said. She lifted up the front of her dress and ripped a long strip of cloth from one of the white layers beneath. She took his hand and placed it on her leg to keep it straight, as he could not hold it up. Even though he knew that she was doing this all innocently it still excited him. Faranthir placed one end of the bandage on the cut holding the leaves in place and slowly started to wrap it around his arm.  
  
"Who is she?" Faranthir asked, looking towards Medethran.  
  
"My future wife. She comes from another high-class family. The things you have heard about me are true. My father became annoyed and eventually told me that I must choose someone to become my wife, so I chose Medethran."  
  
"Do you love her?" she continued.  
  
After a long pause Legolas answered.  
  
"No. I have never been in love either. She was just the prettiest and had a friendly character. I thought that she would become a helpful and caring wife, but I have found that she thinks her hair more important than me. There are more traits that I dislike in her."  
  
Faranthir listened carefully to what he said. Unlike her, he had been allowed to choose who he should marry, but just like her was unhappy. Tethril had never wanted Faranthir for love, as it seemed that Medethran just wanted Legolas to get higher in society and become richer. She frowned at why love was so unfair. Legolas watched her face and could see that she was thinking about her own tribulations in love.  
  
"Are you married yet?"  
  
"No not yet. The date is set for the 21st September." She sounded very sad about that.  
  
"You are not looking forward to it?"  
  
"Not at all. I don't really want to talk about him."  
  
Legolas respected this and watched as she continued to wrap the bandage around his arm. As he looked at her he realised that this strong princess was someone that needed to be protected. She needed to be loved and cared for. It was something that she yearned for but no one had given her. Faranthir neatly tied a tight knot on the bandage.  
  
"There," she said as she looked up at him. Without warning he immediately leant in and kissed her. It was a long, slow kiss. No one had ever been so gentle with her and she loved it. His hand went around the back of her neck, which she flinched at, and the other one lay on her leg. She now feared the touch of a man because of Tethril. Her right hand held his face and the left supported her on the ground. His tongue only entered at her will. It felt so right, but at the back of her mind a voice told her that this was all wrong. He was a Prince of Northern Mirkwood and she was the Princess of the South. She suddenly pulled back. Legolas looked confused. He thought she was enjoying it.  
  
"I'm sorry, but we cannot do this. Think of who you are. Think of who I am!" she exclaimed. Legolas knew she was right and felt stupid to have even tried it.  
  
"No, I'm sorry. I should not have done that," he replied.  
  
"It's alright."  
  
"No, it's not. I don't want to hurt you. I can tell you've been hurt before."  
  
Faranthir looked at him and saw that he was truly sorry. Tears started to sting her eyes as she thought of how Tethril had treated her. How could her father give her away to such a person, when this stranger was showing her affection and treated her with respect? She looked away so that Legolas couldn't see them roll down her cheek, but it was too late. Legolas wondered what he had said to upset her and moved over to the tree, which she was now leaning against, quickly putting his shirt back on. She was hiding her face with her hair. He sat before her and swept it out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes met with his again and he cupped the side of her face with his hand. Again she flinched; whenever Tethril did that he would slap her. Legolas had noticed her tense up when he touched her and wondered if someone had made her afraid.  
  
"Don't cry," he said softly, "Why do you become so scared when I touch you?"  
  
Faranthir didn't reply.  
  
"Has another man made you scared to be touched?" She said nothing but looked into his eyes and he knew instantly that he was right. He opened his arms and she fell straight into them. Legolas caressed her hair as she fell asleep in his arms, her head resting on his chest. 


	4. A Feast!

A/N: Hi. Sorry this chapter is so late but it is a lot longer! Homework, coursework, life – they get in the way! Vikki (smells) wanted her name here so there it is. Thanks for reading and I promise I will try my hardest to update it weekly!  
  
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It was a few hours before sunrise and Legolas waked Faranthir.  
  
"I need to tie you up again; it would seem a bit suspicious to Medethran is she found you loose," he whispered. Faranthir nodded as she pulled herself up to the same tree and put her arms behind it again. He tied the bonds a lot less tightly than before and sat himself down by Medethran.  
  
Medethran awoke half an hour later and proceeded to make some sort of a breakfast, but only giving Faranthir some lembas. Legolas explained who she was to Medethran and part of what he had found out about her.  
  
"What are we going to do with her?" Medethran asked.  
  
"I think we should release her. She has learnt her lesson, haven't you?" Faranthir quickly nodded. Medethran pondered for a while, but finally agreed.  
  
"Very well, but I never wish to see or hear of you in Northern Mirkwood again."  
  
She got up and went to pack away her belongings. Legolas moved over to Faranthir and began to untie her again.  
  
"Last night," he began, "You never told me what happened to you. Please, would you tell me?"  
  
"No-one knows of this, not even my father. I am not about to reveal my problems to the Prince of the North," she exclaimed.  
  
"I cannot force you," He touched her hand, "But let no-one harm you. Go back to your home."  
  
"Thank you," she replied, "It was nice to meet you."  
  
"And you," he replied, "Go safely."  
  
Faranthir got up and whistled loudly into the depths of the forest. After a short while a faint whinnying could be heard. A few minutes later Larendil trotted up to Faranthir, who quickly mounted the horse and rode away swiftly only looking behind once at Legolas.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was May. Faranthir was still suffering in the hands of Tethril and was still dreading the wedding. Harathnor called her into his study. He held a piece of paper in his hand and was re-reading it.  
  
"Ah, Faranthir, here at last child!" he said.  
  
"Yes father. I am here now. What is so urgent?" she asked.  
  
"I received this letter earlier this morning," he flagged the piece of paper, "It is from the King Elessar (A/N: That's Aragorn if you haven't read the books!); it's an invitation to stay in Minas Tirith for a month. I wish for you to accompany me."  
  
"Yes, I will come, but who will be in charge while we are away?" she questioned.  
  
"That has all been arranged, Tethril will be ruling in my stead," he replied. Faranthir's heart leapt. A month away from Tethril would be heaven, "Nilrathean and Sindreth will come too." They were her father's advisors and friends.  
  
"Fine. When are we leaving?" she asked.  
  
"Tomorrow."  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was dawn and Faranthir had already washed and dressed. Tethril pretended to be asleep, waiting for a chance to pounce. She busied herself packing a few items and moved beside the bed to find her necklace. It was her most precious item. A small silver plate encrusted with tiny diamonds in the shape of a feather, the family symbol. She leant over to take it from the bedside table when Tethril suddenly grabbed her. She gasped and froze.  
  
"Don't I get a goodbye kiss?" he asked with a huge smirk on his face.  
  
Not looking at him she replied, "You should get up. I presume my father will wish to speak with you before he leaves."  
  
He moved his hand to her chin and slowly turned her head to face him.  
  
"I will deal with your father later, but now I am speaking to you. Do as I say."  
  
She stared at him, his grey eyes tainted with a wicked gleam.  
  
"I hate you," she breathed and kissed him quickly on the cheek. He grinned again and proceeded to get dressed. Faranthir put on the necklace and left him alone.  
  
As she walked downstairs, she found Harathnor waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase.  
  
"Are you ready?" Not waiting for her to reply he continued, "Is Tethril up?"  
  
"Yes. He will be down shortly."  
  
"Excellent. I suggest you go and prepare Larendil. It will be a long ride."  
  
"Yes father."  
  
She walked down to the stables and began to tack up the mare.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It had been a three-day journey to Minas Tirith and the Elf was very tired but excited to be in Gondor. She ascended the city's circles where people stared at her, not because she was an Elf but because of her beauty. She rode to the stables where she left Larendil in the care of a groom.  
  
She was shown to a guest lodging in the sixth circle where she stayed until her father came to take her to dinner. There was to be a large feast to celebrate the arrival of the King's guests. Many had been invited – Men, Elves and even a few Dwarves. Faranthir was wearing a deep blue satin-like dress that effortlessly hung off her shoulders and accentuated her perfect figure. Her usually draping hair had the front swept behind her ears and had been plaited at the back.  
  
They arrived at the feast hall and greeted the King and Queen. There was a very long table with around thirty places laid out. It was very wide too, which it needed to be to hold all the different foods that had been put on it. They were shown to their seats and Faranthir was surprised to find that they had been placed opposite the Northern Mirkwood Elves; almost like they had been forced together. She was directly facing the Elf she had met a few months ago, Legolas, but noticed that he was not with his fiancée. He was sat between his father and one of his brothers, both of whom were watching her. Faranthir gave Legolas a discreet smile and he responded with the same, which caused his brothers to raise an eyebrow and instantly began quizzing him on who she was, although he pretended to know nothing of her.  
  
The feast seemed to last for hours. Both were becoming tired of politely speaking to other guests and for Faranthir, her father's whispered sarcastic comments about the Northerners. She desperately wanted some time away from the celebrations.  
  
"I need some fresh air, I won't be too long," she told Harathnor. Both him and Thranduil, King of the North and Legolas' father, were getting rather merry and were not really listening. Instead of ignoring each other, they had started to talk and even joke. Faranthir got up and left, and leaning against a wall took in a deep breath. Legolas saw her leave and quickly followed, his father too busy drinking from a large chalice to notice.  
  
Legolas quietly approached her.  
  
"Hello. I have been waiting to speak to you all evening," He said.  
  
"Good evening," came the reply she straightened up and made herself look a little more presentable.  
  
"You look beautiful tonight, you really do."  
  
Faranthir looked at the ground and blushed, "I think perhaps you've had too much to drink like our fathers!"  
  
"I have never seen them like this, since this whole rivalry started. I don't even think they remember how it began. And I have hardly drunk a drop all evening for your information. You must learn to accept a compliment." He answered.  
  
"Where is Medethran tonight?" she enquired.  
  
"She could not come. A family crisis or something." She watched him as he explained to her about Medethran. There was something in his eyes that made her tingle inside; a warmth radiated from them.  
  
"How long have you been here?" Faranthir asked.  
  
"Only a few days, but I have been kept busy," He replied. He wondered whether it would be right to ask her up to the wall to see the view.  
  
"Come with me, I want to show you something." He held out his hand and she took it acceptingly, knowing he wouldn't hurt her.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"You'll see," He said as he led her to the circle wall. They stood by the edge and looked out onto the vast expanse of land before them, only visible by the moonlight. It was a stunning view. The city below them was quiet apart from the dull roar of the feast. A few lights from the houses were lit like fireflies. Osgiliath and the river could be seen and the snow covered mountains in the distance. There was not a single cloud.  
  
"I have never seen the stars so bright." She exclaimed, "It's amazing. You can see every constellation. The world looks so peaceful."  
  
They stayed still just watching the river flow noisily (to Elven ears), until Legolas broke the silence.  
  
"Have things changed since our last meeting?" he asked. He still didn't know what had happened to her and wanted to find out.  
  
"No." Thoughts of Tethril flooded back.  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
After a pause she replied, "Yes."  
  
Gently he tried to encourage her to tell him and eventually she did.  
  
"I am engaged to be married this summer. I hate the man I am to be married to. He..." She trailed off.  
  
"He what?" Legolas pursued.  
  
"No-one knows of this, not a soul. You can never tell anyone this."  
  
"I swear to you, I will not say anything," he promised.  
  
"He treats me like an animal. If I do not do as he orders me to, I am punished."  
  
"Punished?" he questioned.  
  
"Hit, kicked, beaten, slapped, pushed..." she was becoming tearful, but stopped, as she didn't want to do that again in front of Legolas. She was so relieved to finally tell someone.  
  
"Why have you not told your father?"  
  
"He would not believe me. He thinks the world of Tethril, like he is his own son. If I dared to say anything Tethril would literally kill me. He does not want to marry me for love or even for wealth. He just wants power..."  
  
"I am sorry that someone so gracious is being given to someone so evil." Legolas said. She looked at him and saw such sympathy in his face.  
  
"Thank you for listening to me." She leant forward and kissed him softly on the lips. She quickly turned around to head back towards the celebrations when Legolas caught her hand and spun her back round.  
  
"I hope to see more of you over the next month."  
  
Faranthir smiled and went off, leaving Legolas musing over what she had told him.  
  
Back at the feast hall, Faranthir found her father had gone. In fact only a handful of guests were left including King Thranduil and his other two sons. They were both now a bit more than tipsy. She said goodnight to the King Elessar and left the hall, not realising the second eldest Prince had slipped out after her. She walked slowly back to the lodging; she was tired now and was thinking of Legolas. Was there any truth behind the rumours about him? It didn't seem right.  
  
She lost her thought when someone grabbed her arm. He pushed her up against the wall.  
  
"Where are you going, Princess?" She could smell the alcohol on his breath.  
  
"Get off me!" she protested. The Prince tried to kiss her as she struggled to get away, but his grasp only tightened, "Get off!!"  
  
"Laigolin!" a voice yelled from behind, "Leave her alone!"  
  
It was Legolas. Laigolin immediately released her and ran off. Legolas placed a hand on her shoulder to see if she was okay.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.  
  
"Yes. Thank you." She straightened herself up.  
  
"Let me walk you back to your lodgings," he offered.  
  
"Please, I have already asked too much of you tonight, I –"  
  
"Really, it's no trouble."  
  
"Alright."  
  
They walked together speaking quietly for a few minutes, until they arrived at her door.  
  
"Thank you for everything this evening. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow," she said.  
  
"I hope so. Goodnight Princess Faranthir."  
  
"Please, just Faranthir. Goodnight."  
  
She opened the door and stepped inside, heading straight for bed... 


	5. Is it love?

A/N: Lo people! I am back! No, I didn't abandon the story it just took me a very long time to think of what to put, but in return this is a very long chapter with roughly 3500 words!! Again, thank you for the reviews. I'm not sure if this is a Mary-Sue coz I have no idea what one of those is, so I'm sorry if it is and you don't like it! Ciao for now!  
  
Panic. He was searching, looking everywhere, and seeking something, but what? He didn't know. Running through every circle of the City, Legolas couldn't find it. Something was wrong. Suddenly the image had changed, into a dark place where two figures emerged before him. They didn't notice him; they obviously couldn't see him, as if he was looking in through a window. He could see Faranthir with another Elf. She looked so unhappy as the man grasped both her upper arms. He was whispering something in her ear, a sly smirk played across his lips, a pained expression across her face. Faranthir dared to look at him and he struck her hard. The Elf dropped her to the ground roughly and walked off. Again the scene changed; he was in a grand hall with many people who all seemed very happy. They were oblivious to him except for two of them: Faranthir and the same Elf. It was a wedding, she was the bride and this Elf was going to be her husband. She turned to face Legolas, a remorseful look upon her perfect features. He could see her call out his name, pleading, over and over, but he couldn't hear her speak, nor could he get to her. The congregation still applauding and cheering could obviously not see what he could. The Elf turned round and put a hand over her mouth, dragging her away. He shot Legolas a warning look, and everything went black.  
  
Legolas sat up straight in bed, a cold sweat covering him. His rapid breathing slowed as he realised that it was just a dream. Such a strange dream though. Was it a premonition? A warning?  
  
He opened the curtain and found that outside the whole sky was covered in a grey blanket of cloud, but the view of the Pelennor Fields from his balcony was magnificent. He dressed quickly in a fine red and brown tunic. A short rasp at the door made him jump. He answered it to find a rather flustered- looking servant holding a tray with a tempting cooked breakfast that was steaming away quietly. The servant bowed.  
  
"Good Morning, my Lord. I am Rethren and have been assigned to provide you with anything you may need," He said in a rather formal manner.  
  
"Good Morning. Please come in," replied Legolas. Rethren gratefully obliged and placed the tray on the dresser.  
  
"Is there anything else I can get you?" Rethren asked.  
  
"No, that will be all thank you. I am very grateful for this hospitality, but I prefer to have breakfast in my own time, so would you not bring it to me in the future?  
  
"Yes certainly, my Lord."  
  
"There may be something you can do for me. Do you know if the Lady Faranthir is awake yet?"  
  
"I believe she is, my lord, certainly her breakfast has been taken to her."  
  
"Then could you bring me a piece of parchment and some ink, please?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Rethren bowed and returned a few minutes later carrying the things that Legolas had asked for. Legolas took it and proceeded to scrawl (well, as scrawled as an Elf's writing can be) a quick message and handed it to Rethren.  
  
"Could you deliver this to her, please," he asked. Rethren nodded and bowed as he left.  
  
Faranthir sat on her bed brushing her hair with long, smooth strokes down to her waist. She pulled two locks from the front and made it into a herringbone plait. She got up to answer the loud knock at the door and was handed the folded paper by Rethren.  
  
"Thank you," she said wondering who had sent it to her.  
  
Closing the door she unfolded it, eager to see what it was. It read:  
  
Princess Faranthir, Would you give me the pleasure of accompanying me riding today? If you wish to, meet me at the stables in a quarter of an hour. Yours, Legolas.  
  
Faranthir smiled and lay back down on the bed. She knew she was falling for him; every time he looked at her she got butterflies in her stomach. He seemed to care about her, something her father didn't do very often and something Tethril had never done. Faranthir knew that there was no way they could ever make it work, because of who they were. Love was cruel, she thought. A ride with Legolas would be the perfect opportunity to get to know him better and to show off her brilliant horsemanship. She quickly threw on a riding dress and grabbed a riding cloak hung up on the door, and rushed down to the stables.  
  
She found Legolas already grooming his horse. He knew it was a risk to ask her to accompany him. They could be seen by anyone. He had a jet-black horse, with no other markings except for a star on his forehead. It was a complete contrast to see this pale, blonde elf stand next to such a horse. Faranthir watched him behind a stall for a few moments then walked in calmly in a very lady-like manner, even though she felt like giggling like some giddy maiden. Legolas immediately stopped what he was doing to look at her.  
  
"Good Morning, Princess," he greeted her, admiring her striking form.  
  
"Good Morning, Prince Legolas," she answered politely.  
  
"I am glad you have made it here. I was hoping you would come," He blushed.  
  
Faranthir smiled and walked over to Larendil, who was very pleased to see her owner and was ready for another ride, although she had been ridden almost constantly for three days.  
  
"Good Morning Larendil. I hope you had a good night's rest, for we are off again today!"  
  
The horse whinnied in anticipation and eagerness. Faranthir led her out of the stall and placed a simple brown bridle over the horse's head. No saddle was needed; Faranthir was experienced and trusted Larendil enough not to use one. Legolas' horse only had a bridle too, but a black one to match its coat. He attached a bulging satchel to his belt, which contained some food for lunch.  
  
"What is his name, your horse?" Faranthir asked.  
  
"Namroth."  
  
"He is such a striking horse. Is he good to ride?"  
  
"Yes, he is, though slightly strong-willed at times. But what can you expect from a stallion? He is fast and usually does as he is told. Your mare is no competition!" He exclaimed cheekily with a grin across his face.  
  
"My Larendil, one of the finest bred Rohan horses? I think you may be mistaken, my lord!" she replied. Legolas hadn't quite realised that her horse was of such quality, but had no intention of admitting that perhaps she was right.  
  
"Then we shall race!" He pointed out of the stables to a small hill, "From here to the top of that ridge." It was about half a mile.  
  
"Very well," She hopped easily onto Larendil, gathered the reins and galloped out of the stables, leaving Legolas behind. He quickly jumped onto Namroth and gave chase, catching up surprisingly swiftly. The two horses knew it was a race and strove to please their masters, Namroth trying to get past the other horse, but Larendil always finding more energy to spur on ahead. Larendil was beginning to tire quickly because of the previous three heavy days of work and Namroth, rested and full of energy, was using this to his advantage. They were now neck and neck, with Namroth edging further ahead ever so slightly. Faranthir tried to encourage Larendil but the poor creature was now exhausted as it galloped up the hill. Namroth snorted as he reached the top in success, winning by just a nose. Both owners slowed down their animals and walked round to meet again, both horses breathing heavily.  
  
"Perhaps the Rohan blood is not as strong in Larendil," he said sarcastically. Faranthir scowled.  
  
"She was very tired!" She protested. He smiled at her and they both fell about laughing.  
  
"Come on. Let's get away from here. Someone could see us," Legolas suggested.  
  
They slowly walked the horses down the other side of the ridge towards a wooded area to cool them off a bit.  
  
After a long silence, mainly to get their breath back, Faranthir finally opened her mouth to speak.  
  
"Where are we going?" She asked.  
  
"There is a track around this wood. It stretches quite a way but we should be back by dusk."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"We shall stop to have lunch and then I want to see if the North can shoot better than the South," He said with a smirk.  
  
"If you are challenging me to prove to you that I am a far better archer than yourself, then I accept, Legolas Greenleaf!"  
  
"Very well. I know a spot about six miles from here where we can test your...theory. May I remind you of our last little competition?" He grinned.  
  
Faranthir raised an eyebrow and sharply kicked Larendil, who instantly bounded off leaving Legolas and Namroth again. When Legolas finally caught her up with her, they decided to walk for a few miles.  
  
It gave them a chance to talk. It was a strange thing for anyone to see; two Elves that were supposed enemies, laughing, paying attention, actually interested in what the other was saying, and partially flirting!  
  
The time passed quite quickly even though it had taken them nearly two hours to reach the location.  
  
"You were wicked!" Faranthir laughed as Legolas explained about a naughty childhood incident.  
  
"I still am!" He grinned, "Here we are."  
  
There were four tall willows set about ten yards apart in a diagonal formation, the farthest nearly fifty yards away, in a large clearing. The trees were freckled with puncture marks from other arrows. This was obviously a well-used archery site. Each tree was painted similar to an archery board, with circles painted on in white and a red bull's-eye in the centre.  
  
They dismounted and removed the bridles from the horses, then let them off into nearby pasture to graze.  
  
"Well I suppose it is ladies first then, is it Princess?" he asked in a very proper voice, obviously mocking her.  
  
"Indeed, my Lord Legolas. It is only right," she said back sarcastically, her head held high.  
  
"You had better start at the nearest tree. It would be terribly embarrassing for a lady of your stature to miss on the first go." He proclaimed.  
  
"Hm," She replied and as fast as lightning, pulled out an arrow, fitted to the bow and fired straight into the centre of the bull's-eye. She gave Legolas a try-and-better-that-then look.  
  
"Good shot, but watch this." He immediately fixed an arrow to his bow and released it. The arrow sailed through the air at a speed quicker than could be seen, finally landing by splitting Faranthir's arrow in two. (A/N: A little cliché, perhaps?)  
  
"Well then, let us skip the easy part and move straight on to the farthest tree, shall we?" asked Faranthir.  
  
"Fine with me!" Legolas replied confidently, but was secretly hiding the fact that he did struggle a little more with the longer distances. Faranthir, however, was particularly masterful in this area of archery.  
  
She took an arrow and slower this time, notched it to the bow. It took her a little longer to aim but released it, hoping that she could prove the not- so-modest Prince wrong. It landed not as perfectly as the first arrow, but still on the bull's-eye. She sighed in relief.  
  
Now it was Legolas' turn. He carefully took another arrow from his quiver and aimed directly at the bull's-eye. It took him longer than Faranthir to let go of it. He watched eagerly in anticipation, praying it would land on the red spot. It nearly didn't. The arrow was stopped just outside the bull's-eye, but Faranthir's was still closer to the centre.  
  
She had a smile reaching from ear to ear in glee.  
  
"I think we are even now," She smirked.  
  
"I agree, no more competing." He replied. Faranthir nodded, "Do you want some lunch?"  
  
"Why not? What do you have?"  
  
"Erm, bread, meats and some fruit," Legolas said as he took the satchel from his belt.  
  
Legolas sat down while taking the food out and Faranthir placed herself beside him. They shared out the food between them and started talking about why they had come to Gondor for the celebrations.  
  
"I was forced. My father said it would seem rude, though I don't see how, if I didn't come. I don't like large gatherings, like the feast. I've sat through numerous celebrations and balls; they become boring after a while. I prefer it when it's just me and someone else. It's much more intimate and personal."  
  
"Do you mean you prefer it with just you and a woman?"  
  
It was quite to the point, but Faranthir wanted to know if there was any truth in the countless stories she had heard about this Prince. Legolas was a little shocked, but soon started blushing.  
  
"I suppose so. Why shouldn't I?"  
  
"I have heard such stories about you, Legolas. I just hope they are Southern propaganda, made up to give a bad name to your family. You seem too caring to be a womaniser."  
  
"I do not know what you have heard, but there is possibly a little truth in them."  
  
Faranthir was disappointed and Legolas could see that in her face.  
  
"Let me explain," he said, "I have never been in love or felt particularly loved. Yes my father loves me, I know that, but it's hard for him to show it. He is very proud. I have tried to find love so many times, but it seems that every woman in Northern Mirkwood is either after royal status, wealth or both. My father was tired of me playing around, so he made me choose a bride. I don't care about Medethran. She doesn't love me and I don't love her."  
  
"Love is unfair," Faranthir stated, "The mind may guide us to who we should have, but the heart prevails and tells us who we need."  
  
"That is true."  
  
They sighed simultaneously and looked longingly at each other for a few seconds.  
  
"You are truly beautiful," he told her. She smiled and without a word kissed him. He pulled her closer with his hand around her waist. Gently, he bit her bottom lip and she demanded entry into his mouth. This kiss was slower, but this time more passionate than the first one they had shared. Legolas laid Faranthir down softly on the carpet of grass, still kissing her. He released her and broke the kiss. She looked up into his blue eyes, not knowing what to say.  
  
"It's alright, you don't have to say anything," said Legolas, reading her thoughts. She pulled him down next to her, looking up at the grey mass of sky that was a canvas for the green treetops. They lay together in silence for a few minutes considering what had just happened.  
  
Although she had little experience, Faranthir thought he was an excellent kisser. Had she enjoyed it? Certainly. Why had she done it? She wasn't sure. He was handsome, compassionate and she could empathise with him. He could show her love, she thought. She could bring him love and happiness in return.  
  
Legolas was very happy. He knew the kiss had meant something to them both. Had he enjoyed it? Definitely. Why had he kissed her back? He wasn't sure. She was stunning, affectionate and he could empathise with her. He could show her love if she wanted it. She would bring him love and happiness in return.  
  
They both went to speak at the same time, but Legolas (being the gentleman that he was!) let her speak first.  
  
"Legolas, it was what you wanted, wasn't it? I don't want you to think that I'm-''  
  
He propped himself up on his side with his arm - the other one stroking her face - cutting Faranthir short.  
  
"Faranthir, you are something that could only exist in my dreams. To have you kiss me is magical. It is something that I would certainly have wanted."  
  
"Good," She sat up and kissed him quickly on the lips, "We had better leave soon, or we won't be back before dark."  
  
Legolas nodded in agreement and started packing away the food.  
  
"What did you want to say?" she asked.  
  
"Pretty much the same!" he replied.  
  
Faranthir went to get the horses and found them both lying down beside each other, resting. They were obviously very tired.  
  
"Come on. We're going home now. I promise we won't push you too hard. Plenty of walking, yes?"  
  
She patted Larendil's neck who reluctantly got up, quickly followed by Namroth. She led them back to the woods where Legolas was and put on both the bridles. She mounted Larendil and waited for Legolas.  
  
"Let's not go too quickly. These horses are weary."  
  
"That's fine if it means that I must spend more time in your company."  
  
She smiled and he mounted his horse. They set off back towards Minas Tirith, although neither was looking forward to returning.  
  
It was dusk and the two riders were nearly a mile away from the city.  
  
"I had better go ahead. It would seem odd if we both arrived together and I think my father will be waiting for me." Faranthir supposed.  
  
"Alright. I will come and check on you later to see that you made it back safely."  
  
"Ok." She sided Larendil next to Namroth so she could kiss Legolas goodbye, "Until later then. Goodbye."  
  
She trotted off while Legolas waited behind. Larendil looked behind to see Namroth.  
  
"Do you like him, girl?" She asked Larendil, "He's a beautiful creature, Larendil," She leant down to whisper in the horse's ear, "But his rider is the one I prefer!"  
  
They arrived about twenty minutes later, where Faranthir was greeted by her rather aggravated father. The moment she arrived in the stables she was hit with a barrage of questions.  
  
"Where have you been all day???" Harathnor shouted.  
  
"I've been out riding. That's all."  
  
"On your own?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You are so irresponsible, Faranthir! You leave without telling me and you tell no one your route! Why?"  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Harathnor calmed himself down.  
  
"Come inside. I need to speak to you." He said in a quieter manner.  
  
Faranthir put some feed in a bucket on the floor of the stall for Larendil and left with her father. They entered her room and Harathnor shut the door behind them.  
  
"I have thought about this and have decided that we should move your wedding date forward by a month."  
  
Faranthir was stunned. She couldn't believe it. "Why father? Everything is already arranged. The set date is fine," she tried to persuade him.  
  
"The sooner you two are married the better. I can stop worrying about you and about this wedding. You'll be much happier and you can get on with your lives."  
  
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. One month of freedom less was terrible.  
  
"Father, I think you are going to far too much trouble. It's fine how it is."  
  
"It's my decision, child, and that's final. You should be happy!"  
  
"Oh I certainly am!" she lied, forcing a smile.  
  
"Good. I will see you tomorrow then. Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight Father."  
  
She saw him out of the door then went to the balcony. She looked out across the Pelennor Fields and her tears started to flow. It was so unfair, why did she have to marry Tethril and not someone like Legolas? A few minutes later there was a quiet knock at the door. She knew it would be Legolas.  
  
"Come in," she called, wiping her tears quickly and straightening herself out.  
  
Legolas entered to see her out at the balcony, her back facing him. He sidled up beside her but she turned her face away, so that he couldn't see it. He put his hand upon her damp cheek and turned it towards him. Legolas had a concerned look upon his face as Faranthir looked up to see him.  
  
"Why are you crying? Did I upset you today?" he asked.  
  
She cupped his cheek and smiled, which instantly made her sad expression pass.  
  
"No, my lord. You have done nothing wrong."  
  
Her skin was cold to his touch.  
  
"Then come inside and tell me what is wrong then."  
  
He led her inside and shut the balcony windows behind them. Faranthir sat down on the bed, her head resting against the wall.  
  
"My father has told me that I am to marry a month earlier," the tears started to well up again, "I can't take it Legolas! If my father gives me away, he will condemn me to death, I know it. I cannot tell my father, or this man will condemn me to death. I am helpless, Legolas. Nothing I can do will change this. Perhaps I should look forward to death. At least then Tethril cannot punish me for living."  
  
"No, Faranthir. Do not say such things! Is that his name? Tethril? Well, I will help you. I can protect you and you know I would never hurt you."  
  
"Would you do that for me?"  
  
"Yes, Faranthir, of course I would! You are something special, but you are like a bird that has had its wings clipped."  
  
"Thank you," she whispered as she leant into his arms, "Legolas?"  
  
"Yes, my Princess?"  
  
"Would you stay here tonight? I don't want to be alone."  
  
"Of course," was his short and simple reply. He lay her down on the bed and took his boots and tunic off, leaving a silver shirt and trousers on. She took off her riding dress leaving on a long white dress, which was beneath it. She slipped under the covers shortly followed by Legolas. Faranthir kissed him softly then lay down by him, her arm wrapped across his torso.  
  
For Faranthir, it was the first time she had ever felt safe at night with a man by her side.  
  
"Is this what you want Faranthir? You and I? Together?" he asked her.  
  
Her green eyes gazed into his blue ones, "Yes, very much so," she replied sleepily and closed her eyes.  
  
He smiled and kissed her forehead and stroked it until she fell asleep. They were both content. They knew that this time it was right for them to be together and perhaps it could work out. 


	6. A Voice

Hey peeps! Yes, I've finally got a new chappie!! I've decided that I'm gonna cut down on how long each chapter is so I can update more often, and also because they are becoming ridiculously long, this one is over 4,600 words!! Too long! I know this may seem a bit boring at the mo, but I have to set the scene, so to speak, before I can really get going! It'll really begin to pick up in the next few chapters, so please keep reading! Thanks again for your reviews. Very grateful! Keep an eye out for updates as they'll hopefully be coming out sooner rather than later, though you must bare in mind that I'm in my final year of GCSEs so I'm quite busy with coursework/homework/exams (grrr!!!). Ciao for now!

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Legolas woke very early in the morning, surprised to find Faranthir standing at the balcony. It was still about an hour before dawn. Legolas got up and walked silently towards her. He put his arms around her waist, which made her jump, as she hadn't heard him approach, with his soft Elven steps.

"Why are you up so early?" he whispered into her ear.

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. What about you?"

"I couldn't feel your warmth beside me. I wondered where you had gone."

They stood together for a while, musing over what had happened the previous night. In a way, this was one of the things that connected them – they often thought the same things and would soon learn that a bond as strong as their relationship would become, would sometimes let each other know what the other was thinking.

"Legolas?"

"Hm?" was his quiet reply.

"This isn't a game that you are playing with me is it? I need to know and I hope you will give me an honest answer."

Legolas was slightly shocked that she thought he might do that, but, he thought, it wasn't surprising as her people had not trusted the Northern people for centuries. He turned her round so that she faced him, and she was met by a serious look on his face.

"No Faranthir, I could not, and would not, do that to anyone."

"So this is no bet or a joke with your brothers?"

"No Faranthir! You must learn to trust me."

"I know but it's hard," she cupped his cheek, "But I also know that you speak the truth. I am sorry for doubting you. I shall give you this to show you that I trust you, even with my most precious possession."

Faranthir reached around her neck and undid the clasp of her feather-shaped necklace. It shimmered in the moonlight, the diamonds twinkling like the stars. She handed it to Legolas who looked at it for a few seconds taking in its beauty.

"Faranthir..." He began, but she shook her head vigorously, presuming he would refuse it, "Well if I accept this, you must have mine."

"Nay, I do not want anything in return, Legolas."

He ignored her and retrieved a deep green elm-leaf shaped trinket from around his neck. Studded with emeralds, the greenish colour ever changing in the moonlight - lighter, then darker - as Legolas took it off.

"Here, a gift for you."

Faranthir's eyes widened at what he was giving her and turned around, Legolas placing it over her head.

"The chain is mithril," He professed as he fastened the clasp. He turned her around to see how it looked. Perfect, he thought as it hung low on her breastbone.

"If you are ever discovered or in trouble in Northern Mirkwood, present this. There were only five made, two were presented to the royal family and the other three to various people of high stature in the North. They are well-known items and are easily recognisable to Northern elves."

"Who in the royal family has the other one?" She asked.

"My father, of course. I only have this one because my mother gave it to me as the eldest of her children."

"No, I cannot accept this Legolas, if it belonged to one that you loved so much," she told him solemnly.

"No Faranthir, I wish for you to keep it. You are special like she was and the necklace is."

"Thank you."

He kissed her on the cheek, "Come, it is cold out here, let's go inside." Legolas took Faranthir's hand and led her back indoors.

"I hear there is a ball being held tonight. I wanted to ask you for just one dance," He asked, a cheeky smile spreading across his lips.

"Oh well I'm sure that would be most inappropriate, so of course I shall!" Faranthir replied, one eyebrow raised.

"Very well!"

"I must get back before dawn breaks. The servants will be calling shortly after and I do not wish to be seen leaving your lodgings."

Legolas sighed in dismay but agreed.

"Until tonight then..." he said.

"Until tonight." He caressed her long, soft hair and whispered,

"I will be counting the minutes. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Legolas." She kissed him on the cheek then walked out of the door past a few lodgings, including her father's, back to her own.

Faranthir's maid had indeed come early that morning, around seven, to 'wake' the princess. It was now around lunchtime and Faranthir was in the seamstress' room being fitted for a new dress for the evening ball. Harathnor was also in the room, giving his opinion on which colours, fabrics and style she should have, although she already knew what she liked and disliked.

"But the light pink looks so nice on you!" He argued.

"No father, it is boring and no doubt every other maiden at the ball shall be wearing a similar summery colour. This green accentuates my eyes, you see? And the fabric is beautiful; it glistens like the sea and is soft to the touch. Please can I have it?!"

"You have good taste like your mother did, Faranthir, so therefore I must trust your judgment," He sighed.

"Thank you father!" she shouted excitedly, "Trust me, you'll love it when it's finished!"

She handed the material to the seamstress, who then showed them out. Harathnor took Faranthir's arm as they walked together down the steps to the hall where lunch was being served.

"And what about your wedding dress? Have you decided on anything yet?" The Southern King asked.

Faranthir, reminded again of this terrible forthcoming event, looked away and cringed.

"No, not yet, father. I have seen a few but there is nothing definite," She replied trying to hold an up-beat tone of voice.

"Well, you should choose soon, the happy occasion is only a few months away!"

"I know," she said in a quiet voice. Harathnor picked up on this instantly.

"Faranthir, you must accept that this is the man that I have chosen for you, and I am sure your mother would, and you are going to marry him. There could not be a more honest, loyal and respectful Elf that I could ever give you. Tethril will make an excellent husband and hopefully one day a father." Faranthir nearly choked. She would never let any poor creature endure what she did at the hands of Tethril, let alone a child. Respectful?! Honest?!, "Why can't you see this?"

Faranthir had to think of an excuse, quickly. She wished, though, that she could tell her father about all the suffering that that man had caused her. She wished her father could see past his false exterior and find the real malice in Tethril. She wished more though that she was with Legolas, because he understood these things.

"I am not ungrateful to you father at all. I just hoped that in time I would fall in love and choose the man that I wished to marry..." This wasn't a lie though, she had wanted for that.

"Finding love takes time. A lot of time. It could be hundreds, possibly thousands of years before that happens. Anyway, you will learn to love him. I've told you before and I shall tell you again, my decision is final."

"I understand father."

"Now we will not speak of this matter any further. Come, let's go and find some lunch."

She ate little and afterwards went to the stables to find Larendil, someone she knew she could speak to. A curious sight met her when she got to her horse's stable. The door was shut and bolted, but Namroth was lying down next to Larendil. They simultaneously looked up at Faranthir when she approached.

"How did you get in here?" she asked Namroth. The horse snorted and lay his head back down again, "Your owner let you in didn't he?"

Faranthir opened the stable door.

"Come on. You are free animals. You should not be kept indoors all of the time. Follow me."

Larendil got up first shortly followed by Namroth. With one horse at each side, Faranthir led them out of the stable block along a dusty path down to the fields.

"Now go and have fun, but keep close! I will stay here. Go!"

The horses trotted off together a little way away then instantly put their heads down to eat the lush grass.

Faranthir lay down looking up at the sky. Huge rolling clouds loomed overhead. Shapes and faces, animals, castles and dragons could all be seen in the white masses. The sun sneaking behind one of them cast huge shadows that could be seen spreading across the land, but was bathed in pure sunlight only a few moments later when the cloud moved on.

One cloud presented the face of young woman. Her hair swept back and her sharp features like those of an Elf. It was strange, Faranthir thought as she noticed the pointed ears that cloud could show such a perfect image of an Elf. When she looked closer, Faranthir was sure it was someone she recognised, though she couldn't remember who. A face she hadn't seen in long time. Suddenly it struck her – this clear portrait was her mother. It was over a thousand years ago that Faranthir had last seen her. Arayellen was her name - she had been killed in an attack from Dol Guldor, Faranthir had witnessed it herself, but had blocked the moment from her memory for a long, long time. A small grey-skinned orc approached from behind hacking down with blow into her mother. Faranthir's eyes clamped shut wanting to forget again.

'What would she do? If she was engaged to an appalling excuse for an Elf like Tethril, but had fallen for another, who was forbidden. One that was caring and kind and loving...' Faranthir thought.

'What is right,' came the reply, but this was not Faranthir's voice. It was a soothing, comforting voice that had come from inside her head, 'You know what obstacles you will face. You know in your heart that you could never marry him even by the rule of your father. Take a chance, it could change your life, my daughter.'

'Mother!'

'I have always been watching over you, Faranthir. I know what this Elf your father has chosen does to you. Your father is wrong, I would not have chosen him, I would have left you to choose and this is what you must do now. Legolas did not lie to you earlier; this is not a game to him. He cares for you, Faranthiril. He is right for you.'

'I know, but father would never understand.'

'He may eventually.'

'What does that mean?'

'He only wants what is best for you Faranthir, for you are his only child.'

Faranthir was angry. She hated her father for giving her to Tethril.

'Do you believe in fate, Faranthiril?'

'I do not know.'

'Perhaps it was fate that chose Tethril for you, so that you would take refuge in Legolas' arms. Perhaps Legolas and you are the key to Mirkwood's future. You could unite it!'

'Is that what you believe?'

'Yes. If your father understood...'

'I know mother. It will be an incredible challenge. He is so stubborn!'

Good Luck Faranthiril. I must go. Goodbye.'

"Goodbye," Faranthir said aloud solemnly. Her eyes fixed on the cloud, which quickly rolled into another blob in the sky. She turned onto her side, the tears sliding to the ground. She played the conversation over and over in her mind.

"'He is right for you'"

These words meant a lot to her. Someone that was once of the South, accepting that she wanted to be with the Prince of the North. The future of Mirkwood, what did that hold?

She lay on the field contemplating this for a few hours, contemplating her own future. She just wanted to see Legolas and tell him what had happened and have him put his arms around her. She knew she would have to wait until the evening because he could be anywhere in the city.

As evening approached, Faranthir called the horses and led them back inside. The groom was ready and waiting to feed them but Faranthir asked if she could do it instead. She wondered for a minute whether she should stable them separately or let them be together. Eventually she decided that that Namroth could choose.

"Which stable, boy? Your own or with Larendil?"

The horse instantly walked into the other horse's stable and nuzzled against its neck.

"Very well then. Good night."

She bolted the door and left to get ready for the event. Her mother was still on her mind though. She wondered if she should tell her father – no, he wouldn't believe her, as always, and would accuse her of seeking attention while violating the memory of her beloved mother. He was so predictable.

Faranthir reached her lodgings and was met there by her maid, Elderian, clutching the fine-looking new dress.

"Good evening milady. Your dress is ready and I am here to help you with it."

"Thank you. Come in," Faranthir motioned. The maid stepped into Faranthir's room and pulled out a screen for the princess to undress behind. She slipped behind and took of the garments she was wearing and was handed the evening dress. The delicate green material sparkled as Faranthir positioned it over her attractive figure. She walked out from behind the screen and asked Elderian to do up the fastening at the back.

The rear of the dress sloped down to the small of her back with a small clip by the neck to keep it together, the bottom flowing down to the floor in waves of sea-green. The sharp ends of the shoulders were in contrast to the open-ended three-quarter length sleeves. The front, however, was even more dramatic – although the v-shaped neckline plunged no further than her chest (for she was a taken woman and could not provoke more interest) it flattered her shapely bosom. The base of the dress on the upper body pointed in an arrow shape to the fluid fabric beneath. Green silk slippers finished the look. She couldn't help but think that the necklace Legolas had given her looked perfect with the outfit, but she had to take it off and chose to wear a silver pendant instead. Her hair – what could she do with it? Her usual style was always best, she thought. So by taking the front back and tying it, the rest lying over her shoulders and down her back, she was complete. Simply put, she looked like a princess.

"You look stunning," Elderian said bluntly. Faranthir smiled.

"Thank you. What time does the ball begin exactly?"

"Well the guests have already be-" She was interrupted by a knock at the door. Elderian answered it.

There stood Harathnor in a fine tunic waiting to accompany his daughter.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Yes, father."

"Good, then let's go. You were right, you have chosen a lovely dress."

Faranthir walked out and thanked Elderian for her help then took her father's arm before walking off towards the great hall. When they arrived there were mostly Men and Elves sat around tables set out in square around the dance floor. They were seated not too far from the King. Faranthir scanned the hall for Legolas or any sign of the Northern party, but could see none. She was handed a glass of wine which she sipped as listening intently to a conversation that was being held by her father and another Elf.

"...And his sons! Cavorting off with women, especially the eldest!" the other Elf exclaimed. Faranthir cringed at hearing this.

"I know Gadarthen. They are simply revealing the true side of the Greenleaf family."

The Elf nodded in agreement. "Speaking of, look who have just arrived."

Entering through a door on the other side of the hall, came Thranduil and his three sons. Legolas was fond of his brothers, but especially the closest in age, Lerogan. They got on well and could spend all day together, which most siblings find hard to do! They had the occasional spat, but nothing major ever seemed to cause grief between them. Their younger brother, Laigolin, was often thought of as immature, and became jealous of the close friendship his brothers had. He often sought the most attention from their father too, which annoyed Legolas and Lerogan. The eldest two often found that they had the same taste in women, and tonight was no exception. Lerogan as well as Legolas was also looking across the hall at the young elleth in a shimmering green dress, her long dark hair falling across her shoulders. Faranthir sought his eyes but found Lerogan's instead and immediately looked downwards. He smiled, proud that he had made her bashful, but was confused by the annoyed look that Legolas gave him.

"What, brother? You like her too? We always had good taste!" He joked.

"Something like that, Lerogan. Come, enough of her," he said quickly trying to change the subject. They were seated adjacent to the Harathnor's party but were still quite a way away.

The festivities were started by a short speech by the King, welcoming them. The wine flowed freely and the soft music filled the hall. It eventually became livelier as couples began to dance together in the centre. Faranthir was becoming nervous now, but knew she couldn't turn Legolas down. Legolas watched her intently as she socialised with some Elves from Lothlorien.

Without a word to his brother, Legolas got up and calmly walked over to Faranthir's table. From the corner of her eye she could see him approaching, but only looked at his fine form when he stood before her.

"Would you care to dance, milady?" He asked politely, offering his hand. Harathnor hadn't noticed the Prince approach, but now hearing this was filled with rage. Unfortunately for him, Faranthir accepted before he could say anything.

"Yes. Thank you," she replied and took his hand, but deliberately did not look behind her. If she had though, she would have seen her father's fuming expression.

Unlike Harathnor, Thranduil was not angry, but intrigued.

"How does he do it?" Lerogan asked his father, "Any woman he wants..."

Thranduil didn't reply.

Legolas took Faranthir's left hand with his right and put his other arm around her waist. Tonight, he was dressed in a deep red, embroidered tunic with matching breeches and looked pretty good in it too! As the next song began they moved in time to the music, waltzing between other partners.

"Good evening, my stunning elleth in green!"

"Good evening, Legolas. Thank you."

He looked across the hall to seek the face of Faranthir's father. It was not good.

"Your father looks, erm, unhappy, to say the least."

"Oh forget about him. I shall deal with him later!"

Legolas chuckled. Harathnor was watching them like a hawk and seeing Legolas laughing did not make his mood any better.

"Who is the brother that looked at me earlier, I hope he is not like the other one?" She said a little concerned that he could be.

"That was Lerogan, and thankfully he is nothing like Laigolin. He is a good friend too, you have no need to worry about him; we just tend to like the same women, that is why he looked at you."

Faranthir looked over to find Thranduil, and saw that his eyebrows were knitted, pondering at the strange couple.

"Your father does not look angry, just puzzled!"

"Well, he does not actually hate the South contrary to popular belief. He might even like you if he ever met you."

"You're not suggesting that I meet him now??"

"Oh no, Faranthir! Of course not!"

"Good." They separated partially as part of the routine, crossed between another couple, and then came back together again.

"I want to see you later, I need to tell you something," Faranthir whispered into his ear.

"Alright."

The song was coming to an end and Faranthir knew they would have to part soon.

"I don't think I can face my father at the moment. Come and meet me in a while, up on the wall where we were the other night."

He nodded then bowed as Faranthir curtsied, the traditional ending of the dance. Legolas went back to his table and Faranthir left the hall, much to her father's surprise and infuriation. He needed a serious talk with her, what on Middle Earth was she doing dancing with a Prince of Mirkwood?!

She walked up to the wall and admired another beautiful evening in Gondor.

About ten minutes after Faranthir had left, Legolas got up quietly and said, "I think I need some fresh air,"

"Oh, I'll come too!" Lerogan exclaimed. Legolas couldn't think of an excuse to stop him, so he simply smiled.

The two brothers strolled out of the hall and started heading towards the wall, Legolas wondering what he would say to Lerogan before they got to Faranthir.

"And did you see the maiden in the pink dress? She looked dazzling but not nearly as much as the Princess of the North! Wow, she is something special. She's engaged though isn't she? It's a shame, because I'd love to-" Lerogan was cut short.

"Stop!" Legolas ordered grabbing his brother by the shoulders.

"What?" Lerogan asked confused. Legolas released a heavy sigh.

"Lerogan, I trust you with my life. I want to trust you with something else, but it's very important that no-one else hears of this at all, especially our father! Please, you swear to me that you will not say a thing."

Lerogan looked more bemused, "Alright, Legolas, I swear it."

"A few months ago the Princess Faranthir and I met when I discovered her within our borders. And then we met again here. And we found that we both felt the same way about each other," He sighed again, "I suppose what I am trying to tell you, Lerogan is that she and I are together – we are a couple."

Lerogan's stood in silence for a few moments contemplating what he had just been told.

"And what about Medethran? Is the Princess engaged?" he questioned.

"I will not marry Medethran, and yes she is engaged, but to a terrible person who has done terrible things to her. She seeks my love, Lerogan, and I want to give it to her!"

"If you think you can make this work, then I am happy for you, brother, but..."

"I know, but I do not want to give her up."

"And you are going to see her now?" he asked.

"Yes I am, she's up on the wall."

"May I come? She should know that I know."

Legolas nodded. They proceeded towards the wall and when Faranthir caught sight of Legolas, she smiled, but quickly frowned when she saw who he was with. She watched them approach and was becoming more worried when Legolas made no attempt to stop Lerogan. As they finally met, Legolas went to kiss Faranthir on the cheek, but she pulled away, her eyes fixed on Lerogan the whole time.

"What is he doing here?" she asked suspiciously.

"It's alright, he knows, I told him."

"Good evening," Lerogan greeted her.

"Good evening Prince Lerogan," she replied, still cautious of him.

"I want you to know that I support your decision of being together. Legolas is very lucky.

"You do?" This was amazing, two persons approved of them! "Thank you, but nay, it is I that am lucky to have him."

Lerogan smiled. "Well I shall leave you in peace. Good night"

"Good night," they chanted simultaneously.

Once he was out of sight, Legolas pressed his lips against hers. Faranthir was taken aback by this sudden behaviour, typical of Tethril, and placed a hand on his chest. He knew immediately what this meant and pulled away.

"Sorry," he said remorsefully, "But I find it very hard to resist when you look like that."

"It's alright, just be gentle. I'll show you."

She put her arm around his neck and tenderly pecked his lips, slowly changing it into a proper kiss. He cupped her face and followed her lead, softly tasting her tongue. She reached down his tunic to find the necklace. It was still there. Faranthir smiled at him.

"And where is yours?" He asked her looking at the silver pendant currently taking its place.

"It would have gone perfectly with this dress but my father would have seen it."

Faranthir shivered in the cool air of the night.

"Come with me," he persuaded her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

She shook her head, "I want to tell you something."

"Go on."

She sighed, wondering if this was going to sound completely stupid, "Earlier today, my mother came to me. Her voice spoke to me." Legolas looked stunned, "She said that you were right one for me. She said she knew about Tethril. She said she would never have chosen him as a husband for me. She said we could unite Mirkwood."

The tears were stinging again in her eyes. Legolas held her to his chest, in awe of what Faranthir had told him. He was the right one? This had been said by the former Queen of the South??

"I will take you home, come on."

They stepped inside Faranthir's lodgings and Legolas shut the door behind them. She lit a candle by the bed.

"Lie down on the bed," he ordered. Faranthir took off her shoes and did as he said. He sat on the side stroking her hair. They hadn't spoken a word on the way back, Legolas thinking about what he should say.

"Your mother cares for you deeply, Faranthir. I believe she would only have said those things if she had wanted you to know them. You shouldn't cry, you should be joyful. Both her and Lerogan approve! Perhaps this means someone else like your or my father could approve." Faranthir smiled. He lent over and kissed her softly on her forehead.

"Good night, Faranthir." He got up to go, but she grabbed his hand. Legolas looked back to find her sat up.

"Please don't go. I sleep so peacefully next to you because I feel protected. Please Legolas, stay."

She tightened her grip on his hand. He stood for a moment considering what was best. Eventually, he decided that if she slept better with him by her side, he should stay.

He undid the clasp at the top of her dress for her and she went behind the screen to change into her nightwear. This was a knee-length dress with a silvery thread woven in between the red material.

She stepped out and Legolas observed as she put the dress away and brushed her hair. The vibrant red that covered her slim body and long legs were very arousing to Legolas. He hadn't been with a woman in over six months due to his engagement to Medethran, which now made him ache. She turned around to find him staring at her.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he gulped, "Well, not nothing really. I just think that I am the luckiest Elf alive because I have you."

She lay down beside him as he propped himself up on one elbow.

"Thank you but you are wrong." He shook his head then lowered it. She gave him a short kiss and bade him good night. They settled down beneath the covers, they both lay on their sides facing each other, Faranthir's head buried in Legolas' chest. He kissed the top of her head then laid his own down on the pillow and began to drift off to sleep.

A loud knock at the door startled them both.

"Faranthir? Are you asleep? I need to speak to you." It was her father.


End file.
